


The Lesson Learned

by skyofhoney



Category: Dungeons and Dragons (Cartoon)
Genre: Character Study, Coda, Friendship, Gen, Growing Up, Introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-16 01:01:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29073756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skyofhoney/pseuds/skyofhoney
Summary: Set following the events of 'The Winds of Darkness', the final televised episode of the show. In the aftermath of the Darkling's attack on the Young Ones, Hank reflects on their time in the Realm and how much their experiences there have changed them, one more than the rest.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	The Lesson Learned

**Author's Note:**

> I've long been fascinated by Eric's characterisation throughout the series but especially during 'The Winds of Darkness' episode. I also read the cartoon series bible not long before writing this story and although Presto doesn't really have a part to play in this particular fic, I did use it as an oppertunity to give him what I thought was a far more worthy backstory than the series bible did because the idea of anyone - even a fictional character - being described as "not being especially good at anything" irritates me, and I wanted to add more depth to the weird, mismatched connection he and Eric appeared to have. 
> 
> Lastly, my personal headcanon is that each season of the show equaled a year in Realm time, because it helps a lot with character developement and storyline potential although I've attempted to make this fic as closed to canon compliant as possible. This story is a one-shot and is complete.
> 
> Thanks for reading my first foray into this fandom, where I am still very much finding my feet.

Hank lazed by the warm fire and let the feast Presto’s hat had managed to provide settle in his stomach, feeling like an overly pampered cat as everyone continued to wind-down in the aftermath of the Darkling’s defeat. It was unlike the Ranger to rest so easily but he was still recovering from the events of the last few days, still not quite back to full strength just yet.

Besides, the others wouldn’t hear of it anytime he tried to insist he didn’t need fussing over, that he was fine and would be fit as a fiddle in no time. That a good night’s sleep would surely be enough to get him back into shape.

Still, he always felt oddly guilty anytime he indulged in taking a time out. He was their leader. They needed him to be on the ball at any given time, always ready with a keen eye for danger and a plan for when things inevitably went awry.

“We’ll start looking for that magician Dungeon Master told us about at first light tomorrow,” Hank promised the others, who were taking the opportunity to indulge themselves as well. It was too rare that any of them got time to simply exist, with nothing in immediate future to worry about. The ways of the Realm didn’t afford them such luxury when at any moment they could get attacked by Orcs or dragons, Venger or some other madman who wanted nothing less than world domination. Every moment of every day they were always on their guard, the next battle a constant possibility.

It was no way to live for anyone, let alone a mismatched gang of teenagers who were from a place so fundamentally different from where they now found themselves. Years had passed since they were snatched from their world, though, and they’d adapted. Slowly, very slowly, but undeniably, they’d all changed and grown.  
Especially, Hank thought as he stole a glance across the fire, Eric.

In the time everything had returned to what passed as normal for Dungeon Master’s young pupils, Hank had been filled in on the way Eric had taken charge in his absence, how the Cavalier hadn’t complained and had cared only about getting his leader back where he belonged.

Bobby had spoken with the slightest trace of awe as he’d described everything to Hank when they’d all first settled around the campfire, the Barbarian clearly quite unable to believe Eric had ever had it in him to come through for the group in their literal darkest hour.

And who could blame the child, when Eric had spent what felt like every waking moment sniping and whining, seeming to take their transportation to another world and the everyday life within it harder than the other five put together? Eric had always come across as pitifully immature and shamefully lazy to Hank. Even back on Earth where they’d been barely acquainted, Hank had not liked what he saw of the other boy and would have laughed in the face of anyone who suggested they could be friends.

It wasn’t that Hank meant to be unpleasant, there was just no reason for either he or Eric to ever be in the same circles and Hank was fine with that. It had been a big surprise when they’d bumped into Eric at the amusement park that day, trailing behind Presto and looking like he couldn’t fit in somewhere any less if he tried.

They had all changed so much but Eric, Hank realised, had changed the most of all. 

With the others asleep now, as the night grew shorter and the stars began to fade, Hank stole another glace at the Cavalier, who was muttering in annoyance as he struggled to get comfortable with the tatty old blanket Presto had conjured for him.

Hank smiled wryly. Well, Eric wouldn’t be Eric if he never complained about anything at all ever again and Hank had to admit he wouldn’t want any of them to change completely, not even the one person he’d sometimes thought he hated.

“Eric? You okay over there?”

Eric startled, face flushing with embarrassment in the firelight.

“Hank? Oh. I thought you were asleep,” he admitted.

“Can’t,” Hank replied. “Everything that happened these last few days…it’s a lot to take in.”

It was rare Hank revealed what was really on his mind. Being leader, he knew it would do no good if he showed any vulnerability. His entire job in this world was to be strong, to motivate the others, to carry on when they could not. The rare times he did share his deepest thoughts always made him feel awkward, even if it were only to Sheila, the one who knew him better than anybody else and made him feel safer than anything here or at home ever could.

He couldn’t remember divulging personal feelings to anyone else much since getting here. Maybe Diana a few times, since she was so good keeping everyone going. The raw determination she possessed was something Hank drew his own strength from more often than he’d like to admit.

Eric, though? They never really talked much. Not about anything other than the task at hand, whatever that was, or casual chit-chat.

Three years, and Hank realised he was only just starting to get to know someone who had been his comrade in arms all this time.

“Me neither,” Eric agreed. “I feel like a kid who’s had too much sugar before bed.”

“Adrenaline rush, I guess,” said Hank. “I get that a lot.”

And it was really hard, sometimes, to stop the wheels turning in his brain enough to close his eyes and truly rest. He was always thinking about their next move, worrying about where the next attack might come from, what he would do if not all of them made it back, if _none_ of them made it back…there was always far too much to think about, and he was sick of it.

Hank couldn’t believe he was ever destined to live such a life. He was just a normal boy. What business did someone who, until it all changed in an instant, didn’t do much but compete in school sports, play video games and go to the movies have being a warrior in a world that wasn’t even his own? It had to be a mistake, being brought to the Realm. He knew the others felt the same. None of them could understand what made them special enough to have their destiny foretold by magic and things beyond that they’d never know.

“You do?” Eric didn’t or couldn’t hide his surprise. 

“Well, I guess nearly being erased from existence or whatever the Darkling did to me is hard to just get over. I’ll be okay.”

Hank gave up any pretences of trying to sleep and propped himself up on one arm, getting as comfortable as he could on the hard ground. Eric sat up too and for a while they both just lingered under the night sky, each unsure what to say.

What could be said about the bizarre situations they found themselves in? As easier as it had become to accept all the fantastical elements of the Realm over time, it would never really feel normal.

Suddenly Hank missed his proper life and his mom and dad very, very much. For the first time he could remember in a long while, he felt like a lost boy who needed someone older and wiser to tell him everything would work out. He missed the way his dad would give him little pep talks the night before a game, or how his mother made him her special homemade soup when he was sick.

“As soon as the others get up and we’ve had breakfast, we’ll start looking for Krinn. We’ve been in this world too long.”

“One day here is too long,” muttered Eric.

Hank supposed it was, although he honestly wasn’t sure he could wish the whole last three years had never happened either. Not least because he wouldn’t have gotten to know Sheila so much better. He’d hung out with her back home sometimes, and had been close to asking her to go on a date before the amusement park and that ride had taken everything away. Here they’d forged a connection that surpassed anything he could have hoped for on Earth. Something that only came from fighting together, sometimes nearly dying together, and always remaining united in their quest for home.

Had Eric gained anything like that being stuck here? Hank didn’t think so, apart from the brief friendship with Lorne the Cavalier had learned to foster. They hadn’t seen Lorne again since they’d had to go their separate ways, but Hank could tell the fraught experience Eric had making one of his first real friends had helped a lot.

There had been other things too. Eric’s stint in the role of the Dungeon Master, however brief, being the one that came to Hank’s mind the most quickly. Nobody could go through something like that, have that much magic coursing through their very soul, without being changed forever…and Hank was sure it had changed Eric for the better.

Eric had never really talked about it, not in depth of any kind. Hank hadn’t pushed him. Eric was the least likely to open up over personal feelings and that was his right, Hank supposed. 

Still, the point was Eric was growing. In a way Hank would never have imagined possible had they not come here. He was still Eric, he still had his “days”, as Diana had called it once, where he was rude and mean and took all his frustrations out on whoever was unfortunate enough to be nearest to him, but they were becoming fewer.

Much fewer, in fact.

“You know,” Hank began carefully but then trailed off…he knew Eric well enough to know that even throwing a compliment his way could be tricky, that he needed to approach it right so Eric would know it was genuine. That was the trouble with Eric. He was so paranoid about being laughed at, being perceived as a joke who had more money than brains, that he saw offense where there was none. Yeah, they all teased him and Hank wondered now if they had gone too far a lot of the time, but they all teased each other. It was what friends did, wasn’t it? Then again, had Eric had real friends on Earth? Hank wasn’t sure. Eric had talked the talk at school, was always Mr Big Shot walking around with his nose in the air and people carrying his books and saving him the best seat at lunch, but the gossip had always been that the only people who really hung out with Eric were just on the payroll. 

Except Presto.

As much as Eric belittled the younger boy, Hank knew they were friends and not just the tutor/student dynamic Eric insisted they were. Hank imagined Eric must have been mortified when he’d been made to have a math tutor, especially one who was younger than him.

Presto was even more out of place in school than Eric, having been bumped up a grade and often being coerced by teachers to help out kids older than him who struggled with their homework.

Hank could tell, looking back, that Presto was resented for his brains and Eric for his wealth. It made a funny sort of sense that the two became friends, and got even closer in the Realm. For as much as Eric always ragged at Presto, Hank knew Eric would go crazy if anyone caused the Wizard harm, like Eric had done when the Darkling took Hank.

Like the rest of them, Eric was not really a shallow teenager anymore.

He was a warrior.

And a leader, if he wanted to be, although he insisted it wasn’t for him after finally getting the turn he’d grouched about wanting ever since they arrived here.

“We’ve gotta get home this time,” Hank insisted. “We can’t blow it again.”

“Yeah,” agreed Eric. “We came way to close to losing…to one of us being…”

Eric let the sentence hang unfinished, apparently not wanting to say it out loud. Not that word they all feared, that was hovering in each one’s mind every day like a black cloud. So Hank just nodded and renewed determination flooded through him. He was going to do it. This time, he was going to get his friends home where they belonged. Dungeon Master acted like they belonged in the realm, more and more as time went on, but even if that was true Hank had to go back. For his friends and for himself. For the children they all once were.

It just wasn’t possible they were _supposed_ to be warriors. They lived as warriors and thought as warriors but even as that was so, the remnants of who they once were lingered within each one of them and tugged at the heart like the memory of something long lost but not forgotten.

Except there was one more thing, and it had to be now or the moment would pass never to come again.

“Eric?” Hank started, as Eric shifted again back into a sleeping position. “What you did while I was…gone…the way you took care of everyone. I guess I’m trying to say thanks.”

Eric just shrugged. 

“Someone had to take charge,” he said matter-a-factly, none of the ego present that would have once been there. 

“Still, it’s not easy. Believe me, I know.”

Eric nodded again as the sun began rising to the east behind them.

It was nearly time to get going.

Again.

Hank took one more moment to observe his friends and he couldn’t find the words for the love he felt in that moment.

Yes, they would get home.

But he knew, with a finality that gave him back the last of the strength he needed to keep going, that he wouldn’t take his time in the Realm back for anything at all.


End file.
